


(Working Title) Sick Solstice

by Sethrial



Category: D&D - Fandom
Genre: M/M, h/c, self indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethrial/pseuds/Sethrial
Summary: Twenty people survived the plague, out of the nearly ten thousand who contracted it. Twenty, in all of Lourdon, and the people on top desperately wanted to know why. Enter Julian Savae, talented healer from Lanura, headhunted personally and paid handsomely to study one Lord Solstice Solaire and find an answer to why the wasting sickness left so few victims alive, why it happened at all, and how to stop it from ever happening again.Basically, yours truly made her first real d&d character then never got to use him. Add two parts boredom, one part creative spark, and a lot of throwing ideas at the wall to see what stuck. The answer was a few thousand words of h/c fic loosely set in a homebrewed d&d universe. Best not to read if you know anything about dungeons and dragons and are likely to get offended by the fact that this author doesn't, doesn't intend to learn, and wants nothing more than to sit in her house building cheap worlds out of match sticks and glue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really have nothing to say for this. It's self indulgent trash, but the couple people I've shared it with have liked it, so here it is. Have fun.

There were twenty people who survived the plague, of those who contracted it. Only twenty in all, out of tens of thousands dead, and the people on top desperately wanted to know why. They headhunted the best healers in the business and paid them handsomely just to come to Lourdon to listen to a proposal, with a promise of much more for participating. Julian was one of those conscripted to the study and was given a dossier on his patient to read on the trip from the capitol to his residence. Solstice Solaire, Lord of Amterra, youngest son of the Earl, third youngest grandson of the King. He skimmed the personal history -- dueling champion, wizarding college, bit of a wild streak -- and skipped ahead to the current condition. At last report he was bedridden and only occasionally conscious, which was better than half of the other patients being studied. 

Julian arrived to his castle late one morning after extensive checking of papers and credentials at the town gate, then at the gate to the castle itself, and was brought to his sickbed where Solstice lay with his eyes closed, barely breathing. 

“Lord Solaire?” Julian asked, mostly to discern whether or not he was awake.

There was no answer for long enough that he started to think he would have to come back later. 

“Are you here to kill me?” Lord Solaire asked eventually with absolutely no inflection. 

“No?” 

“A pity. You may leave.” 

“Also no.” 

Lord Solaire sighed and it turned into a coughing fit. It went on for long enough that Julian started to worry about his ability to breathe, and when he was finally done Solstice had to take several long, shuddering breaths before he could speak. “What do you want?” 

“I’m a healer, a cleric, here at the behest of the King.” 

“Of course grandfather had to involve himself in this disaster. What do you think you can possibly do for me that my own healer is not currently doing?” Still no inflection, and his voice faded in and out enough that half the time Julian was reading his lips. 

“Nothing, but if I study you I may be able to stop this from ever happening again. If I can help you and the other survivors, bonus points.” 

“Very well. I’ll cooperate. What do you need to know?” 

Julian sat on the bed next to him and took his pulse. Slow and weak, but steady. “First of all, how do you feel?” 

Another long silence, and then Solstice said, with the first hint of emotion Julian had heard from him, “That is without a doubt the stupidest thing anyone has ever had the gall to ask me. I am ill and in  _ pain,  _ you imbecile. How do you think I feel?” 

“I apologize. Let me rephrase that. What hurts and how badly?” 

“Everything and very,” Solstice snarked. 

“Funny. What hurts the most, and what does it feel like?” 

“My chest. Breathing hurts. Coughing feels like being stabbed, but once I start I can’t stop. It feels like there’s a weight on my chest.” 

“Can you sit up?” Julian asked. “I want to listen to your breathing.”

“No.” 

“Okay, I’m going to lay my head on your chest. Take a deep breath. It’s okay if you cough.” He listened to the slow, rattling breath and the minute or so of coughing and wheezing that followed. When he was done Julian felt over Solstice’s sides with gently prodding fingers. There it was. 

“Well?” 

“You have scar tissue in your lungs and a lot of fluid. You also have two broken ribs, probably from coughing so hard,” Julian explained. 

“That would explain quite a bit. Can you do anything about it?” 

“I can heal the ribs now. The lungs are going to take a bit of study to fix completely. Relax if you can. It’s going to hurt a little bit.” He closed his eyes and cast healing word at the second level, enough magic that the breaks would heal cleanly and all at once. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but Solstice didn’t so much as flinch. Impressive. Julian checked his work and frowned. “That’s odd.” 

“What’s odd?” 

“The spell didn’t work. Your ribs are still broken.” 

“Wonderful. What do we do about it?” He sounded like he was rapidly running out of patience. 

“I have something else I can try right now, but if it doesn’t work I’m going to have to study the problem more,” Julian said. He cast the same spell at the highest level he could with his hand over the break to feel what happened. They snapped back into place and fused under his fingers, but not as well as they should have with that much magic pumped into it. Solstice let out a quiet groan of pain that turned into another coughing fit. He held a handful of blanket to his mouth while he did, and when he pulled it away there were new flecks of blood to match the old, dried stains dotted along the upper edge of the blanket, evidence of frequent fits and an answer to what was in his lungs. 

“Better?” 

“Slightly. What was wrong?” 

“I’m not sure. I have a few hypotheses, but it’s going to take some experimentation before I can call any of them theories,” Julian said. “Who’s your current healer?” 

“Dmitri Orsen. He serves the family.” 

“I see, and how much do you trust him?” 

“With my life,” Solstice said. 

“You may want to reconsider that. He’s been sloppy.” 

“I won’t hear a bad word about the man who saved my life,” Solstice said with heat. 

“He didn’t notice that your ribs weren’t healing. Those were established breaks, at least a week old. My guess is he healed them and didn’t check his work, and left you to suffer for it.” 

“I see. You may leave.” 

“I don’t mean to insult him, but you have to consider-” 

“ _ You may leave, healer.”  _

Julian flinched, but recovered quickly. “Of course. I’ll be back tomorrow. Same time.” 

 

“I’ve found something we can try for the scarring,” Julian said a week later. He’d been busy, researching constantly, healing Solstice when he had the slots for it, meditating twice a day to recover that high level magic, and fighting in his free time to try and raise his level so he could heal him four times a day, instead of only twice. Healing didn’t have much permanent effect, but it eased his pain and let him sit up and be part of things for a little while. 

He was up now, leaned back against the headboard with a tray of food and a book, freshly healed and making the most of his little bit of energy. “Oh?” 

“It’s a vanity potion made to reduce the severity of scarring. I’ve brewed a stronger one that removes them altogether and works on internal scars, tested it on some pigs to make sure it’s safe. It is, and I have a humanoid sized dose of it ready for you now.”    
“Is it going to hurt?” 

“A bit,” Julian admitted, “but you’ll be able to breathe better when you’ve had the full round. Six doses in six days and the scars should be completely gone.” 

“I’ll try it. Being able to breathe again sounds,” he paused to cough and wiped blood on his sheets, “sounds nice.” 

They talked a little more about what else hurt -- his back, his stomach when he ate anything other than bland, room temperature food, a headache that had been brewing for a couple days -- and Julian recommended cold milk and salt tablets for his stomach and head, and as much stretching as he could manage for his back. He showed him how to stretch while lying down, and then that was the end of Solstice’s energy for the day. Julian gave him the potion and watched him for a few minutes to make sure it wouldn’t burn his stomach or come back up on him. It was fine. He lay down and fell asleep, and Julian left with a promise to be back again tomorrow, same time as always. 

A frantic, out of breath servant interrupted his meditation two hours later with a “come quick, it’s Lord Solstice. Something’s wrong.” 

Solstice was curled on his side, coughing hard and clutching his chest. His face was dark red and he was shaking. 

“What’s wrong?” Julian asked. 

Solstice shook his head and kept coughing. 

“He’s been like that for half an hour now. What do we do?” 

“Move.” Julian rolled up his sleeves and pressed his hands to Solstices chest. Lay on hands at the highest level he had left didn’t do much, but after three times Solstice managed to catch his breath and his face went back to its usual pale gold. He was still coughing, but it was quieter and didn’t shake his entire body. 

“Thank you,” he croaked. One more solid cough and he hacked up a little node of flesh and a fair bit of blood. 

Julian examined it. It was scar tissue, one of the scars in his lungs, peeled off by the potion and coughed out. 

“This is going to keep happening, and it may get worse. Do you want to keep going, or do you want to try something else?” 

“Keep going. I’ll survive. I want this shit out of me.” 

“Fair enough.” He turned to the servant who came to fetch him. “If I’m going to keep healing him I need to get my spell slots back. That means I need to be left alone for five hours. Stay with him, but don’t come get me unless he stops breathing. Understand?” It was a lowball estimation, but he’d gotten slots back on less rest in emergencies. 

“I understand. I’ll tell the others.” 

 

Julian came back four times a day after that and did nothing but rest and heal. Solstice was aware enough to take his second dose and told him that he wanted to keep going, no matter what happened, and demanded that Julian respect his wishes on the matter. Julian thought he was delusional and would keep an eye on things. If he ever fully stopped breathing that would be the end of it, no matter what Solstice wanted. 

The fourth day was worse by a lot. He was feverish and barely conscious, only awake enough to cough weakly and shiver, soaked in sweat and the water his servant Matin had been wiping his face and neck with. The scars were coming up more frequently, one every half hour, and there were a lot of them. 

“He hasn’t been able to sleep,” Matin said. “I don’t know what to do for him. He doesn’t know who I am most of the time and keeps trying to fight me.” He was holding together admirably for how scared he sounded. 

Julian nodded. He took Solstice’s temperature and pulse, listened to his breathing and heartbeat, and said “have someone run him a bath of slightly cool water, not too cold, just a bit below room temperature. 70 degrees, if you can control it that well.” 

“Yes sir.” Matin hopped to while Julian worked. 

He healed him again and let him rest until Matin came and told him that the bath was ready, then tried to pick him up and got slapped for his trouble. Solstice struggled out of his arms and gasped when he hit the bed. 

“You’ll feel better if you come have a soak. I promise.” 

“Blaggard, whore…” Solstice said as loudly as he could, not very. “When my father-” he was cut off by another coughing fit. 

“Shh. Relax. I won’t hurt you.” 

“I’ll have your fucking head.” He was far from lucid, but speaking more clearly than he had in days. His lungs were healing, at least, in spite of the pain and fever. 

Julian had a choice. He could let Solstice keep his perception, wrong as it was, and fight him over a bath and a change of clothes, or he could take the easy way out. It didn’t take much deciding before he cast charm person and picked Solstice up again. The spell lasted a bare minute before Solstice was fighting him again, struggling and yelling as loudly as he could manage. 

Huh. That changed some things. Julian recast it as a fourth level spell and Solstice relaxed again. He curled up like a child in Julian’s arms and held onto the folds of his robes, reluctant to let go even when Julian put him down to help him undress. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Solstice mumbled. 

“Shh, love. It’s okay. Lift your arms.” 

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I didn’t…” he trailed off into another round of coughing. 

That wasn’t going to work. Julian asked for a pair of shears and cut Solstice out of his nightshirt as neatly as possible, following the seams so it could be sewn back together and not look terrible. Then he lifted him again and set him gently in the waist deep water where he sat listlessly, mumbling apologies and reaching for Julian. 

In for a penny, in for a pound. Julian stripped out of his robes and shirt and got to work bathing Solstice and cooling him down. He washed his hair and rebraided it while Matin and a couple other servants remade his bed, then helped him slide down neck deep and kept him from slipping further, soaking in the cool and calming the fever. He murmured comforting nothings, more tone than words, and Solstice mumbled back apologies to someone named Rosie, over and over, until he fell asleep in the by then room temperature water. 

Julian let him rest. He kept a hand under his back to hold him up and let him sleep and cool down. 

“The bed’s ready, sir,” Matin said. 

“Thank you. I’m going to let him rest a little while longer. Can you bring a clean nightshirt for him?” 

“Sure. Is he going to be okay?” 

Julian nodded. “He’ll recover. It’ll be hard, but he’s strong.” 

When Solstice started to shiver Julian dried him off, dressed him, and carried him back to bed. He weighed nearly nothing, but when Julian tried to set him down his grip on his robes was strong, like a vice that Julian didn’t know how to break without hurting him. 

“Stay,” Solstice demanded. 

Another choice, and this one was only a little more difficult to make. It was barely a moment’s thought before Julian climbed into bed with him and let him cuddle in close to his chest. He was so small, always lean, judging by the set of his shoulders and hips, but the sickness had wasted him away to nearly nothing. His fingers were like matchsticks where they dug into Julian’s robes, and he’d been able to count his ribs when he was bathing Solstice. Julian was used to treating the sick and dying. He’d seen more gruesome. It still hurt to look at, but he didn’t let the pang in his chest bother him. 

Sol mumbled something in his sleep and curled in tighter. 

“Shh, just rest,” Julian said softly. 

 

“Will I get in trouble if he wakes up and I’m here?” Julian whispered when Matin came back. 

“It’ll depend on how much he remembers from tonight. I wouldn’t risk it for myself, but he has the ability to fire me if I piss him off too much,” Matin said. “How is he doing?” 

“Sleeping, coughing. The fever’s stayed down, thankfully.” Julian had an empty water glass he was putting the nodes Solstice coughed up into. He had four so far, just from the last few hours. It was starting to slow down. “What time is it? I’ve completely lost track.” 

“A little before dawn. You’ve been with him most of the night.” 

“Who’s Rosie?” Julian asked after considering that for a moment. He’d been meditating, only coming out of it to shush Solstice back to sleep when he started to wake up.

“His late fiance. She died during the plague, while he was sick,” Matin explained. 

“He keeps apologizing to her.”

“Sol blames himself for her death. There was nothing he could do to save her, not the way he was, but that’s grief for you. It hit him hard. He knew about his mother and siblings before he got sick, that they were ill too and would most likely die, but Rosie was healthy when he went under.” 

“Was she a plague victim?” 

Matin looked uncomfortable. “It’s… complicated. Not really my place to tell you. Mostly we’re avoiding the subject. There’s plenty to worry about without bringing her into it, plenty of people to mourn.” 

“I understand. Thank you.” 

 

Solstice’s lungs were mostly clear by the fifth day, and by the end of the sixth he could breathe easily with only the occasional mild cough. Neither he nor his healer ever mentioned the fact that he’d woken up curled up in his arms, or the fact that he’d stayed that way for another hour while Julian finished meditating. It wasn’t worth commenting on, so neither did. 

“Breathe deeply,” Julian said with his ear to Solstice’s chest. 

He got two deep, clear breaths in and coughed a third one out. “How do I sound?” 

“Better. Not quite perfect, but no scars, no broken ribs, and only a little bit of fluid left. That may clear out in the next few days, or it may be an ongoing problem. We’ll have to wait and see. How do you feel?” 

“Like I can breathe again. Thank you. I didn’t realize how bad it was, how much it hurt.” 

Julian nodded. “We have more work to do, but this was a good start and will let you start recovering. Now, before we go any further, I have some questions for you. Have you always been a magical null?” 

“A… Is that what’s going on? Is that why I can’t cast anymore? I’m a null now?” Solstice asked. He looked furious and enlightened all at once. 

“How strong of a caster were you before?” Julian asked, starting to put together a theory. 

“Strongest in my generation, with a lot more room to grow. I could levitate the entire school, grounds and all, but since I woke up I haven’t been able to cast so much as a cantrip,” he explained. 

“Were any of your family magically adept?” 

“Mother had a little magic, so did Helios. Severe was subclassed into eldritch knight. I have memories of Melody doing little cantrips to entertain me when we were children, that’s where I first started to love magic, but she hadn’t done anything in decades. Is that…” He reached the same conclusion Julian did and his eyes widened. 

“Your brothers and father, they never got sick, did they? Do they have any magic?” 

Sol shook his head. “No. Not a drop.” 

“Did Rosie?” 

The curiosity and understanding in Solstice’s face shut down. “No.” He lay back down with his back to Julian. 

“She didn’t die of the plague, did she?” Julian asked quietly. 

No answer. He coughed a few times but other than that was silent. 

“Solstice, I know it’s hard, but knowing for sure could save a lot of people.” 

“She did not,” he said stiffly after another long pause. “You may leave.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little more about orcs in this universe, and about Julian in general.

“She was pregnant. Rosie. People were just starting to get sick and we were scared. She left to escape the quarantine and I stayed here to help where I could, and we made plans to meet up in Lanura when everything was over. Then I started to get sick. I knew I was ill a few days before I started to show symptoms, just felt off, you know how it is. Once I figured out what was wrong it was a race against the clock to get everything in place. We married in secret over stones of farspeech, ten minute ceremony in the basement ordained by Dmitri and witnessed by Matin and Violet, her lady’s maid. Got the records updated to show that she was a Solaire, that our child was as legitimate as I could make it, so they would inherit and I wouldn’t leave behind a… a fallen woman, gods, forgive me, and a bastard. The last thing I remember is thinking that at least they were safe and secure and that I could die peacefully, if not comfortably.” 

“Sol, I’m so sorry.” 

“And then I woke up, and she was gone. Died in childbirth, just a few minutes after the baby was born.” 

Julian was silent. He moved closer and ran his hand up and down Solstice’s back, trying to give what comfort he could. 

“I’m a  _ father.  _ I have a child, a son, and I can barely… I’m like  _ this _ . What am I supposed to do?” Sol asked desperately. 

“Is the baby safe?” 

“Yes, he’s with his grandmother, Rosie’s mom.” 

“Does anyone else know?” Julian asked. 

“Father. Matin. What’s left of Rosie’s immediate family, but they’re trustworthy and can keep him secret.” 

“I see, and how old was your mother when she passed?” 

Solstice glared at him. “I fail to see what that has to do with anything.” 

Julian nodded. “When I was little, maybe nine, my older sister and my mom went on vacation for a year, traveled around Yalgrun, met up with old family they hadn’t seen in god knows how long, and when they came back they had a surprise new baby brother for me. Dad was pissing mad because it obviously wasn’t his, but he calmed down eventually and everything went back to normal. I love my brother and gave anyone who said shit about his parentage a bloody nose.” 

“What are you trying to say?” 

“My sister was thirteen. Being a mother that young would have ruined her life, but my mom was young enough that she could conceivably have another kid, and having a child out of wedlock when you’ve already got a large, stable family is much less of a problem than getting knocked up in middle school. Mom lost the respect of a couple of our more conservative relatives, may they rot, and Lanie got to keep her childhood. Get it?” 

Solstice nodded. 

“I’ve seen your father and brothers. You look like clones. Does the baby look like you? Like them?” 

Solstice nodded some more. “My… my little brother looks exactly like all of us.”

“How old is he now?” Julian prompted. 

“He was born a little more than a week before the quarantine went into effect, so… about a year now. Fourteen months. He’s a bit small for his age, but he’ll grow.” 

“Work out the rest of the story and tell your family. Fire the servants if you have to, anyone you don’t trust implicitly, and hire new ones. You can tell him when he’s old enough to understand why you did it, or not. He’s got the parentage and the lineage either way.” 

“...Thank you. You have my gratitude.” 

“You still have to do your exercises today.” 

“I rescind my gratitude,” Sol joked. 

  
  


“What are you working on so hard?” Julian asked. Solstice had been sitting up since their last healing session working on something at his desk, and as far as Julian could tell he hadn’t moved in four hours. 

Solstice moved the loose papers he was writing on into the book he was reading from and closed it. “Nothing important.” 

“You hid it pretty quickly for nothing important.” 

“It’s personal.” 

Julian shrugged. “Fair enough.” That was the tone of not wanting to be pushed. “Ready for a massage?” 

_ “Gods yes.  _ I forgot that was today.” They’d discovered a month ago that a solid quarter of Sol’s pain was just stiffness and that regular massages, experimentation showed that once weekly was enough, helped him move more easily, sleep better, and be able to get out of bed more often. They could have hired a massage therapist for him, but Julian knew what he was doing and was willing to put Solstice through a little bit of pain to get a good result. The massages definitely hurt while they were happening, but it was worth it an hour later when Sol’s muscles relaxed and he could walk on his own without support. 

“Can you get up?” Julian asked. 

“Nope!” 

At least he had a good attitude about it. Julian picked him up out of the chair and carried him to his bed. He was stiff from sitting and writing for so long and it took a little time and some rubbing to get his legs to uncurl and his back to straighten. Once Sol was flat and comfortable, Julian got to work. 

They kept up a casual conversation while he worked, partially to distract from the awkwardness of Sol being nearly nude with Julian’s hands all over him, partially because they had developed an easy friendship over the last few months. Once Julian started explaining his research to Sol he’d opened up a lot and was more receptive to tests and treatments, and he’d shown Julian that he was more than just rich, lucky, and sick. He was a genius in his own right, worn down and not able to think or study as much as he normally could, but intelligent enough to be part of his own recovery and help with understanding how the illness worked, once he’d done a bit of reading and understood how magical maladies in general behaved. 

“I found out that we were in school at the same time,” Julian said conversationally. 

“You went to the mage’s academy?” 

Julian laughed. “No, different schools, but at the same time. I started my first year of pre-med two years before you graduated. Lanura Medical Academy, finest in the nation, got in on a scholarship.” 

“Why… urg. That one hurt.” He rolled his shoulder where Julian had just popped it. “Why would you need to go to medical school? Can’t healing spells fix everything?” 

“Injuries, yes, but illnesses usually need a specialized spell to treat them and there are about a billion of those to learn. I also studied non-magical medicine for when I’m out of spell slots or working with a null. Imagine how miserable you would be if all I could do was use healing word on you.” 

“Did you learn massage therapy at school too?” Sol asked. 

“Move your arm a little, little more. Perfect. No, I learned that on my own time, while I was learning to be a cleric, before pre-med.” 

“Who are you a cleric of, anyway? You’ve never talked about your god,” Solstice said. 

“Goddess,” Julian corrected. “Sune. Which reminds me, I really need to thank you. I found your shrine to her in your old college things, down in storage. That’s also how I found out we were in school at the same time.” 

“Why were you looking through my old school things?” Solstice asked. “Trying to dig up dirt on me?” 

Julian dug into the muscles of his neck a little harder and made him groan. “Nothing like that. I heard her calling to me and went to investigate, and lo and behold, a full shrine to my goddess sitting amongst piles of books, shoes, and out of style hats. I found that my first week here, actually, and just never thought to bring it up. So… thank you, I guess, for saving me a walk down to the temple district every day, or from having to commission my own statue of her.” 

“Mm. No problem.” 

“Why do you have a statue of her, anyway?” 

Sol’s ears tinged red. “It was a joke in college. Shrine to a goddess with her tits out, sitting front and center in my apartment on campus, and there was nothing anyone could do about it because religious freedom laws.” 

“That’s an awfully nice shrine for a joke,” Julian commented. 

“A joke is only as funny as the effort you put into it,” Sol said flippantly, but his ears were bright red. 

Julian started popping his spine, thumbs on either side of it, moving down one vertebra at a time. “I was a little surprised you knew who she was at all, then I remembered you went to college for fifteen years and had plenty of time to get acquainted with the entire student’s pantheon. I’m glad she kept you safe. Your personal history file said you had a bit of a wild streak back in the day.” 

Sol snorted. “Yes, because I definitely prayed to a fertility goddess to keep me safe.” 

“Sol, we both know she’s not a goddess of fertility. Horny college students wouldn’t pray to her if they thought they would get children out of it.” 

“Fair.” He was flushed red down to his neck. “Can we talk about something else?” 

“Sure. What’s on your mind?” 

“What’s your parentage?” Sol asked, grateful for a change in topic. 

“Loving and supportive, even though I had a long streak of constant fuck ups as a teenager,” Julian joked. 

“No, I meant what race are you, but in a way that implies I have manners. I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.” 

“God. Complicated question. Short answer, half elf.” 

“What’s the long answer?” Sol asked. His face had returned to its usual color. 

“The long answer is that the only thing I know solidly and for one hundred percent, is that I’m ¼ orc. Other than that, wild mix of races. Eighth generation Lanu,” he explained. 

“I thought it was Lanuran.” 

“That’s the language and nationality. Lanu is the race if you’re more than four mixed and have lived there a few generations. I’m about one-half elf if you do the math, a little less. Bit of tabaxi, bit of gnome, dwarf, rakshana, couple dragonborn in the line somewhere. I had an aunt who was a tiefling but I was never sure if she was adopted or not. One of my grandparents was a quarter human, so I don’t know if I can claim that lineage. The dna is there, probably, but no one is going to look at me and think “oh, there’s a human.” So yeah, long answer, I’m half elf, half everything else.” 

“That’s… incredible.” 

“I have horns. You wanna feel?” 

_ “Please.”  _

Julian took Sol’s hand and guided it up to his head, just inside his hairline where there were two sharp points of bone that didn’t quite break the skin. He felt over them and rubbed the tips. “What about you, one hundred percent elf, all the way down, or is someone hiding a secret human somewhere in the family tree?” 

Solstice laughed. “I’m pure blooded elf. I have some cousins with a little human blood, but for the most part we haven’t intermingled too much. Some of my best friends aren’t elves, though.” 

“See, that’s the problem with you lot,” Julian said with a smile in his voice so Sol knew he was joking, “you think of the world as elves and other, instead of several dozen races of equally deep and meaningful culture spread across the world. Life exists outside your backyard, my friend.” 

“Yes,” Solstice snarked, “the let me go explore the deep and meaningful culture of eastern Yalgrun. So many rocks, so much grass, nothing but culture for miles.” 

“Hey, be nice. I grew up in Yalgrun, sort of. Remember those teenage fuckups? After about the fifth one dad packed me off to his family on the plains to watch the sheep and cool my head. I learned a lot about the world and myself the three years I was there.” 

“They don’t have their own written language.” 

“The verbal tradition goes back further than Lordon has  _ existed,”  _ Julian argued back. “Also, can you stop insulting my culture? Pretty please?” 

“Yes, okay. I’m sorry.” 

“Thank you.” 

 

Over the next week Sol had more questions for him about Yalgrun and orcs in general. Julian found himself describing traditional clothing, coming of age ceremonies, holidays, hunting, herding, storytelling, communal child rearing, communal cooking, and communal living as a whole. Sol asked good questions and seemed to have a genuine desire to learn, not just to make up for being a closed minded prick earlier. Julian didn’t know absolutely everything, but he had lived on the plains in a fairly traditional tribe for three straight years and went back there for summers and winters for another six. He could explain a lot. 

“So explain pity to me,” Sol said. It was massage day again and he needed it more than ever before. He’d started walking places, not far, but under his own power, and it had his muscles tight and joints stiff. 

“Orc emotions run strong and deep, and they feel them with their whole body. Pity is a complicated emotion, part affection, part subjugation, part fiercely protective. It’s what they feel for someone below them in whatever power structure they’re in, but who they care about and want to be happy and safe,” Julian explained.

“I see. So do parents pity their kids?” 

Julian laughed. “No, it’s closer than that, more intimate. Parents love their kids, but they want to see them grow up and move on with their lives. Pity is for people they want to stay close to them forever.” 

“Husbands pity their wives?” Solstice tried. 

“Other way around, usually. Orc women are a lot larger than men.” 

“Those poor men,” Sol joked. “Given what I know of an orc woman’s idea of a good time.” 

“That’s… god no. Did someone hurt you? You don’t abuse the people you pity; you protect them and comfort them when someone else hurts them.” 

“It was a long time ago. Orc woman at college bit straight through my lip while we were making out. It was fine, an easy heal. Same with the rest of the bite marks she gave me. She was a wild one. I still have a couple scars, or I did, before that potion.” 

“Sol…” 

“What’s wrong?” He didn’t seem at all concerned by it, by the fact that someone had used him as a chew toy. 

It was a long time ago, a temporary issue that was far behind him, and he had survived with only a couple marks to show for it. Not honorable marks either. Julian laughed at himself. He was talking about Yalgrun too much, if he was thinking in terms of scars being honorable. “Nothing. Just a stray thought. Any other memorable lovers in college? I had a couple fun ones.” 

They traded stories back and forth of the crazy men and women they slept with while they were too young to know better, the good ones, the bad ones, how Sol had fallen in love with Rosie. He was able to talk about her some, only stories from a long time ago, but they didn’t depress him the way just saying her name used to. 

“I have another question,” Sol said after Julian described losing his virginity on a harvest god’s altar, and then the harvest being twice as strong that summer. 

“Orc question or sex question?”

“Orc. Do you feel pity?”

Julian had to think about it. “Mmm, good question. I do, a little. Not as strongly as my grandad would have, but I could call some of the things I’ve felt pity.” 

“Do you pity me?” 

“Do I…” Did he? He felt a lot of things about Solstice, some of them appropriate and professional, some of them not so much. He liked him, definitely, but where was the line between friendship and love, and were they approaching it? Had they crossed it? Did Solstice want him in that way? 

He must have thought about it too long because Sol said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean… I don’t…” 

“No, it’s okay! I was just thinking.” He stopped kneading Sol’s thighs and sat next to him on the bed. “Do I… pity you?” he asked himself as much as Solstice. “In the modern, Lordon sense, no. I have a lot of respect for you, for surviving everything you did and for how hard you’re working to recover. You’re also in a position of social power over me, being wealthy and titled and in your own territory, and while that’s the case I  _ can’t  _ pity you in the orcish sense. However, when you simplify things and take away those constructs, money, prestige, all of it, I’m larger than you, stronger than you, and am responsible for your healing and whether you thrive or suffer. Sune fuck me twice, it sounds weird when I put it that way. In that sense, and in the sense that I want to keep you safe and happy, I do pity you some.” 

Solstice was quiet. 

“Is that okay?” Julian asked. 

“I… yeah. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to think right now.” 

“Mmm.” They were quiet for a while, then Julian said, “Do you want to know what I think?” 

“Sure. Couldn’t hurt.” 

“I think that you’ve been through a lot and shouldn’t be ashamed to find comfort and affection where you can. I also think that you’re my employer, and that if you want me to drop the subject I will immediately and leave it dropped.” 

“I… I’m sorry.” 

“Subject dropped,” Julian said calmly. “Do you want to finish the massage or just go to bed? You’ve had a long day.” 

“Bed please.” Solstice wasn’t looking at him and his ears were red. Julian helped him into his sleeping clothes and into bed gently and professionally. He closed the curtains to shut out the setting sun and let Sol… Lord Solaire sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it you can hit the kudos button or leave a comment. Attention feeds the beast and I'm starving these days, through no one's fault but my own


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